


where lines overlap

by burlesquecomposer



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dumb Angry Boyfriends, Eren Being a Dick, Foreign Language, French-Speaking Jean Kirstein, Frottage, Grinding, Jean Being a Prick, Language Kink, M/M, Turkish-Speaking Eren Jaeger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-14
Packaged: 2018-01-08 17:22:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1135382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burlesquecomposer/pseuds/burlesquecomposer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Eren's German rang confidently from deep in his throat despite its deficiencies, Jean's German had a soft lilt to it. That combined with the scarf draped about his shoulders and the glasses he wore for his laptop was probably what had first sparked attraction, albeit resentfully, in Eren.</p>
<p>And it only made him hate Jean more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	where lines overlap

**Author's Note:**

> A modern AU in which Jean is French, Eren is Turkish, and they meet in the middle with German. It doesn't take long for them to discover they both have a language kink. Gift for Kisu, who drew this [lovely masterpiece](http://kisu-no-hi.tumblr.com/post/73031186792/so-i-kinda-fell-in-love-with-this-turkish-eren-and).
> 
> I severely apologize for my inevitable inaccuracies with culture and language. My French is a little rusty and the Turkish was translated via google because I have no Turkish friends. Some translations are listed at the end.
> 
> Enjoy~

Jean and Eren were the kind of guys whose coming together just sort of happened. One day they had a system of badgering each other at every chance; the next they, they still badgered and teased and fought, but there was a softer quality to it. 

"You're a dumbass." 

"Yeah, yeah," the other would finally concede, which would make the former grumpily take his fingers and hook the tips against his own. It was Jean who usually lost these fights, ever the romantic and hard set on never going to bed angry. 

Their dates were short informal things because Eren didn't like them. Much to Jean's begrudging acceptance, Eren's long hours at work combined with college classes had him using the remainder of his time passed out on his couch, and when Jean was over because he'd brought takeout to feed him with something, anything, he'd exercise his muscles by carrying his limp, heavy body to bed. He stroked a lock of dark hair out of Eren's eyes once he'd tucked him under the sheets, debated on taking off his shoes and slipping into bed with him because he was tired as shit. Jean wondered sometimes why he was going out with Jaeger – worse, why Jaeger was even going out with _him_ if he didn't have time for a boyfriend. 

Something about his stupid face, probably. 

Their middle ground language was German. Eren's other half was Turkish and Jean's was French. They'd met at a German college, even taken a couple classes together – thankfully all lectures, which saved the professors from stopping arguments across a seminar table – and roomed in the same dorm building before they got their own apartments. 

Eren, still only in his second year, worked at a convenience store to make money and practice his German. Jean, on the other hand a third year, had acquired a business internship that allowed him to work from his laptop. Eren had first started to truly poke at Jean when he saw him typing away at a cafe, coffee and scone steaming beside him, like he was trying to look romantic and bookish. 

"I'm Parisian," Jean said after a long sip of his latte, "it's what we do, isn't it?" 

"Figures you'd be a snob since birth." 

"I thought Turks were known for hospitality." 

"I thought Frenchmen were attractive but you look too much like a horse to be one." 

"Don't you work in a convenience store? What are you, in high school? Get a real job." 

Where Eren's German rang confidently from deep in his throat despite its deficiencies, Jean's German had a soft lilt to it. That combined with the scarf draped about his shoulders and the glasses he wore for his laptop was probably what had first sparked attraction, albeit resentfully, in Eren. 

And it only made him hate Jean more. 

"Jaeger," Jean groused automatically when he saw Eren approaching, probably to bother him. 

"Kirschtein," Eren shot back. 

" _Verdammt_ , Jaeger." Jean broke their consistent rhythm and it sort of threw Eren off. "I don't want us to fight anymore. Can we be friends?" 

Eren frowned. Finally, he sat at Jean's table, holding the headphones that hung around his neck and sort of – what was he doing, wibbling? 

"No," he said. "... _Daha fazla._ " 

"What's that?" 

"More." 

"More what?" But Eren wasn't answering him. Instead, he was looking for his words in the grain of the table. After a few moments of thinking, it finally clicked for Jean. _More than friends_. 

"I thought you hated me," Jean continued. 

Eren's face had taken to scarlet with embarrassment. "I hate you because I like you, asshole. It's so fucking frustrating and it's your fault." 

Jean blinked at him for a while over his laptop. 

"Did I misunderstand something here? Is this a Turkish thing?" 

"Fuck, Jean, not everyone can be as straightforward as you." Eren's brows drew together and he muttered something in Turkish. Jean didn't catch it. Quietly, he closed his laptop and slipped it into his bag. 

"If you want," Jean said, propping his chin up in his hand, "you can order something and we can turn this into a date." 

Eren's face strongly resembled a tomato. 

Jean sipped devilishly at his coffee and awaited an answer. 

 

 

~***~

"You want me to do what?" 

Jean was seated on the couch and Eren on the floor between his legs while they watched a dirt biking competition on which the latter was passionately fixated. For once he'd come home fairly awake, though Jean was quickly putting him to sleep regardless. Eren had learned quickly that Jean was quite affectionate, sometimes unintentionally so. Having finished his intern work for the night, he now had his fingertips buried in Eren's hair, idly combing through it. 

"Come with me," Jean said. "Be my plus-one. It's just a group dinner with my employer, who is weirdly really friendly for a German businesswoman. I need to make connections. I want you there with me." 

Eren craned his head back to look at him upside-down. "Are you going to introduce me as your boyfriend, or am I supposed to act as your distant cousin for the night?" 

"My employer is partners with another woman. You'll still be my boyfriend." 

As they stepped into the restaurant, Jean slapped Eren's wrist to get him to stop fiddling with his tie. But he had to admit that the Turkish kid cleaned up good. Though Jaeger never had other occasions to wear suits, Jean had him fitted for one, insisting that he should have one on-hand anyway. The suit clung to all the right places and draped beautifully in others, and Jean couldn't help but think about this the whole way to the gathering. 

To make matters worse, Eren had pushed his hair back in a manner that managed to help the style seem wholly effortless. And, Jean thought inappropriately, extremely erotic. 

They were just a few minutes early. Jean breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that not only had everyone else dressed just as formally as they had, but also that many had brought company. Tugging on Eren's elbow, he approached the table and introduced himself and "Eren Jaeger, my boyfriend" and pulled out Eren's seat before they sat down. 

"Gallant and chivalrous," Eren muttered. 

"Polite and courteous," Jean replied under his breath. 

They were then introduced to the other interns – Armin Arlert, whom Eren recognized from a few of his classes, the excitable Sasha Braus who was desperately trying not to look hungry enough to eat all the bread in the basket, and Reiner Braun who despite his build had surprisingly never played American football – to name a few. Then they met Jean's employer, a small woman named Christa Renz, and her partner Ymir who was somehow more intimidating than the woman Jean was actually trying to impress. 

Once everyone had received their food, the air around the table relaxed. Eren caught up with Armin, discovered their shared interests in science fiction and martial arts, and exchanged numbers. Jean, happy to see that his guest wasn't bored to tears like he normally was at parties, soon got involved in a conversation with Mrs. Renz herself. After discussing his exemplary work in the company – Jean preened on the inside – the topic eventually approached his name. 

"Jean… Kirschtein, right? I've seen your name in all the emails and I've been wondering about you for some time."

 "Ah? Why is that?" 

"Your surname sounds German but your first name is French. Are you both?" 

Eren had taken to dipping bread into the leftover juices from his peppered steak. He idly listened, as this was something Jean had never told him much about. 

"Yes," Jean replied, ducking his head a little in an attempt to look modest. "My father is German and my mother is French." 

"Do you speak it?" 

"I speak both," he said, "and a little English." 

"That's wonderful! Ymir–" Mrs. Renz grabbed her partner's attention. "Jean speaks French too." 

"Ah, really? _Je ne rencontre pas beaucoup de francophones dans cette partie de la ville. Parlez-vous couramment?_ " 

" _J'ai parlé français depuis que je pourrais parler,_ " Jean said with a small chuckle, seeming somewhat glad to be familiarizing himself with the woman who for most of the dinner had stared coldly around the table and kept to her food. " _Mes parents ont fait en sorte que j'ai appris le français et l'allemand en même temps._ " 

Eren caught his fork before it could slip out of his hand clatter loudly against his plate. 

" _Ah, c'est de la même manière que j'ai été élevé,"_ Ymir replied. _"J'ai vécu en France mais à la frontière avec l'Allemagne, il était donc nécessaire de connaître à la fois._ " 

" _Où avez-vous grandi?_ " 

" _Strasbourg._ " 

" _Quelle coïncidence. Mon grand-père y vit. Strasbourg où il a rencontré ma grand-mère._ " 

"Eren, are you all right?" 

The boy nearly jumped in his seat. "Yeah, Armin," he said quickly, nodding his head down. Eren was only now conscious of the heat burning in his cheeks. 

When they left the restaurant, Jean boasted about his conversational skills. He'd even obtained the business card of an employer looking for multilingual interns. Jean was half a block from the taxi stand when he noticed he was talking to air. 

Jean turned to see Eren walking slow several paces behind him. 

"Jaeger." 

Eren made a strangled noise. 

"Something wrong?" 

"Just get the cab, Jean." 

Several cream-colored taxis were lined up along the block by the taxi stand. Jean grabbed the first one and opened the door for Eren, sliding in behind him and started to give the driver Eren's address. Eren interrupted to give him Jean's. Jean gave him a dumbfounded look as the driver took off. 

"Close your mouth, Jean." 

"Did you just invite yourself to my place?" 

"Why are you complaining?" 

"I'm not, I just didn't know and you didn't tell me or I would've done some cleaning before we left if–" 

"Jean, _sus._ " 

"What did you just call me?!" 

"You French idiot," he muttered before taking Jean's face in his hands and closing the space between them. Jean's lips were hot and Eren's burned from the ground pepper stuck in his teeth. Jean protested at first – they were in a cab, for fuck's sake – but soon grabbed the back of Jaeger's head and kissed him until their lungs ached. 

" _Seni becermek istiyorum,_ " Eren murmured, the edge of a growl in his voice, as he leaned more against Jean until the half-blond was nearly pressed to the window. 

Jean caught the driver's gaze in the rear view mirror and felt his face get confused between paling and blushing. "What?" he hissed. "Why are you getting worked up now?" 

"Did you want me to get worked up in the restaurant?" 

"Fuck no!" 

"Then this is what you get." 

They made out in the back of the cab for a few minutes longer before Jean pushed him off and told him he couldn't have any more until they got home. Eren returned to his seat unsatisfied and frustrated. 

A few floors up, Jean fumbled with the keys to his apartment. Eren shoved his hands into Jean's pockets from behind and curled over his shoulder to whisper things in his ear. 

" _Bu takım elbise sana cok yakisiyor ama yerde daha iyi görunecegine inaniyorum..._ " 

"Wait until we get inside, Christ that sounds filthy–" 

Eren barely let the door close behind them before he was pushing Jean's blazer off his shoulders and kissing him again. Jean fisted his hands in Eren's shirt and backpedalled to the couch. 

" _Seni çok nefret ediyorum, aptal Fransız atı._ " 

The shudder from Jean's body traveled from his toes to his breath, a small moan settling from his lips to Eren's. 

"God, take your clothes off and keep doing that." 

" _Senin dileğin benim için emirdir._ " 

By the time Jean had stripped down to his boxers and shirt, Eren was down to his own boxers and readily straddled him on the sofa. The punctuation of each syllable from his mouth, his throat.. something about the Turkish language in Eren's voice got deep and hot under Jean's skin. 

"Wait. Wait a second." 

Eren was in the middle of grinding against him when Jean spoke and sat up on his elbows. Jean studied him a moment. 

"Is this all because I was speaking French at dinner?" 

Mortification was impossibly cute on Eren.

"No."

"God, I forgot I've never actually spoken French at length around you." 

"It has nothing to do with that." 

"It totally does! It's written all over your face." Jean grinned cheekily. " _Eren Jaeger s'excite quand je parle français._ " 

"Oh my god," Eren stumbled, turning redder than ever. "Like you're one to talk, getting all hot and bothered over Turkish dirty talk." 

"I did not!" 

"That's what you told me." Eren leaned over him and murmured right by his ear as he slowly ground his hips against Jean's in a rolling motion. " _Elbiselerini çıkar ve bunu yapmaya devam…_ " 

Jean was fighting it, denying that Eren could have such an effect on him, but soon he was red and withering and a small sigh escaped him. " _Merde_ …" 

" _Türkçe benim anadilim olduğunu, bunu unutmak mı? Ben bütün gün bu yapabili–_ " 

Jean shoved him off the couch and trapped Eren's lower half between his legs. Eren didn't take long to recover, already raising his arms to fight back. Jean grabbed both his wrists and pressed them close between their chests as he leaned forward. 

" _C'est comme ça que ça va être? Je veux voir combien mon discours t'affecte._ " 

"What?" 

"Let's make this a contest." 

Judging by the gleam in those teal eyes, Jean had sparked his interest. He relaxed his arms and Jean let them go. 

The corner of Eren's mouth quirked. "First to make the other come wins?" 

"No German." 

"No asking what things mean." 

"That's a totally valid thing, denied. German just for questions. And you can only ask three." 

"Fine. What does the winner get?" 

"Winner gets to tie the loser to the bed and do whatever they want to him." 

"I'm _so_ gonna win," Eren reveled, smirking beneath him. " _Oyun başlasın._ " 

They found their way to Jean's bed once Eren broke into German and complained about the floor hurting his back. Eren shoved Jean onto the bed first and settled his body between pale legs. 

" _Sen iyi görünüyorsun,_ " he said, taking hold of Jean's loosened tie to yank him forward. " _Ben seni kravat olabilir, eğer ben isteyeyim._ " 

And Jean straight-up _whimpered_ , because deep down he knew Eren wasn't screwing around with nonsense. But if Eren was going to talk him dirty down into hell, Jean was going to drag him in right with him. 

Eren was already pressing his hips against Jean's, grinding and gyrating as he somehow made everything he said sound downright pornographic. Jean pushed himself up one one elbow and yanked Eren down by his hair. 

" _Tu vas fondre quand je suis fini avec toi_ , _mon chou,_ " Jean gasped in his ear. " _Tu vas vouloir que personne d'autre que moi…_ " 

What made his efforts worthwhile was the low, pathetic moan in Eren's throat. Jean relished in it, soaked in it, talked in his ear until grinding against him was only an afterthought for Eren. Jean used the opportunity to flip Eren onto his back, easing the tie off his neck. 

He knew he'd be wrecked by the end of this – but he was determined not to lose to Jean, if only to wipe that shit-eating grin off his face. Eren rose off the bed and tugged Jean further into his lap. Jean blinked in surprise, flailing a bit to keep himself upright. 

" _Bunun için çok umutsuz–_ " 

Jean swallowed the rest of his words, sealing his lips over Eren's as he pushed his fingers into thick dark hair and tugged. There was a knee pressed hard against his groin, rubbing him off so good, and oh god – Jean was riding his thigh, thin hips rolling like rubber, and his dress shirt was falling off his shoulders, pooling around his elbows, wrinkling and draping at the waist. The mouth Eren kissed was distracted, slack, hot in his increasingly aroused state. 

Jean broke away to plant his lips on Eren's throat, wetly mouthing and biting and muttering, " _Je te veux, j'ai besoin de toi mal, je veux te toucher plus…_ " Jean let one hand roam flat over Eren's body while the other shot straight down into his boxers to take him in hand. 

"W-what did you just say?" Eren asked to cover the rippling shudder of searing heat that had just swept through him. 

Jean grinned. He licked a line up his neck to the bare spot behind his ear while his hand expertly pumped and twisted over his cock. "I want you Jaeger, so bad…" 

Eren groaned and dug his fingers into Jean's hips. Jean was making it extremely difficult the way he dragged his lower half back and forth on Eren's thigh, growled things in his ear that sounded much more romantic than dirty, but touching him all the same. 

He had to turn the tables somehow… Keep himself at bay and not let Jean get to him too deep. What he needed was a distraction. 

" _You are a head of lettuce,_ " Eren said in Turkish with a shiver, scraping his teeth against the other's shoulder. " _Lettuce that has been chopped small. You are a salad, Jean._ " 

"Oh god, what's that mean?" Jean mumbled, a soft whine bubbling up from his throat. 

"It means I'm gonna fuck you into the mattress until you're begging." 

He practically melted into Eren's lap. "Oh _god…_ " 

" _Then I'm going to chop up some tomatoes and onions and good feta cheese–_ " He turned Jean over on his back, the blond all too willing and eager to comply. 

" _Eren,_ " he moaned, " _tu sembles beau, je ne peux pas durer…_ " 

" _Finally, I'll–_ " Eren cracked. He burst out laughing into Jean's shoulder, shaking and going slack on top of him. Jean's boner would have died if not for the fact that Eren's laughter was rare and gorgeous. 

"Okay, Eren, what's so funny?" 

"Nothing," he managed, stealing a long, firm kiss from him. "God, you're… _benim salak._ " 

Jean flashed his trademark smirk to combat Eren's resistant frown. "Mmm, I don't know what I did, but I'll take the compliment, _mon cheri._ " 

The two tumbled around in bed for a while, touching and kissing and rambling in their native tongues until things got so good they couldn't concentrate. Eren made good on his promise to pound Jean into the mattress; soon he had Jean clawing at the sheets, strings of curses and expletives in alternating languages pulled from him, begging for more first in French then in German so the other could understand what he wanted, while Eren curled over his back and fucked him hard and untempered. German broke into Jean's French and Eren's Turkish was slurred and sentences sat unfinished in the hot, thick air of the bedroom. 

The contest ended in a draw. For twenty minutes, they argued over who, by seconds, had come first. After the lazily heated debate, both conceded to accepting the punishment. 

A while later, when Eren returned from the kitchen with a bowl of ice cream, Jean had comfortably curled himself up over a pillow. A talent competition played on the TV in the background. 

"…Hey," Jean nudged. "Earlier…"

 Eren swallowed a spoonful of chocolate. "Hm?" 

"Did you call me a head of lettuce?" 

He choked. "You know Turkish?!" 

"Just a little, I've been learning it for you!" Jean's cheeks burned, and Eren's face flushed despite the ice cream, and for a while they both stewed in mutual mortification. 

"Christ," Eren said finally, "I don't know whether to kiss you or kick you out of bed." 

"Right, but this is my bed. Just c'mere, okay?" 

Eren grumbled and put down his ice cream and climbed into bed. He stole Jean's pillow and planted himself on it. 

" _Sana aşık oluyorum,_ " he said. 

"What's that?" 

"It means you're a dumbass." 

"Yeah, yeah." Jean rolled his eyes and took up part of the pillow as an excuse to sit half his body on Eren's. "Ugh, get a blanket, you're too cold." 

"You're too hot." 

Jean grinned with unparalleled smugness. "Why thank you." 

"Ugh! I never should have gone for a French guy," Eren griped. "You're going to ruin me for anyone else." 

Jean draped himself over him and possessively clung to his body. "That's the plan." 

He brushed his hand against the other's. Eren softly curled his fingertips around Jean's. 

The gesture was so normal, so necessary and good and undeniably inevitable, that neither noticed it at all.

**Author's Note:**

> The French in Jean and Ymir's conversation is mostly unimportant but easily translatable.  
>  _"Sus"_ \- "Shut up."  
>  _"Seni becermek istiyorum"_ \- "I want to fuck you."  
>  _"Bu takım elbise sana cok yakisiyor ama yerde daha iyi görunecegine inaniyorum"_ \- something along the lines of "this suit looks good on you but it would look better on the floor"  
>  _"Seni çok nefret ediyorum, aptal Fransız atı."_ \- "I hate you so much, stupid French horse."  
>  _"Senin dileğin benim için emirdir."_ \- "Your wish is my command."  
>  _"Eren Jaeger s'excite quand je parle français."_ \- "Eren Jaeger gets turned on when I speak French."  
>  _"Elbiselerini çıkar ve bunu yapmaya devam"_ \- "Take off your clothes and keep doing that" (copying what Jean said to him earlier)  
>  _"Türkçe benim anadilim olduğunu, bunu unutmak mı? Ben bütün gün bu yapabili–"_ \- "Did you forget Turkish is my mother tongue? I could do this all day" (cut off)  
>  _"C'est comme ça que ça va être? Je veux voir combien mon discours t'affecte."_ \- "That's how it's gonna be? I want to see how my speech affects you."  
>  _"Oyun başlasın."_ \- "Let the games begin."  
>  _"Sen iyi görünüyorsun. Ben seni kravat olabilir, eğer ben isteyeyim."_ \- something like "You look so good. I could tie you up if I wanted to."  
>  _"Tu vas fondre quand je suis fini avec toi, mon chou. Tu vas vouloir que personne d'autre que moi…"_ \- "You'll melt when I'm finished with you, sweetheart. You'll want no one else but me."  
>  _"Bunun için çok umutsuz"_ \- "So desperate for it"  
>  _"tu sembles beau, je ne peux pas durer"_ \- "you sound beautiful, I won't last"  
>  _"benim salak"_ \- "my idiot"  
>  _"mon cheri"_ \- "my darling"  
>  _"Sana aşık oluyorum"_ \- "I'm in love with you."
> 
>  
> 
> **EDIT** : I have already corrected many of the lines (mostly the Turkish ones) from a few nice people who gave me better translations early on. Because I've edited this enough, I won't be making any more changes. Please refrain from comments with new translations or offers to re-translate for me — I won't respond to them.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Just Your Stereotypical Coffee Shop AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180455) by [flimsylies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flimsylies/pseuds/flimsylies)




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